The Hollow Reflection
by nairiefairie
Summary: Draco's melt down in the bathroom, what is he waiting for? one shot. R


For Rita who had the misfortune of fix it. Thank you - times a million!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, there Rowlings (grumbles)

The song is sung by the sick puppies I believe this song was originally called cars or that's what I know it as, but sighs they changed it when they put out the album…..so I guess it's now….

WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR

I walk the line of the disappointed

I celebrate when I am pain

My heart and mind can be disjointed

I built a bed in this hole I've made

I recognise that I am damaged

I sympathize that you are too

I want to breath when I am feeling so self-conscious

But it's hard when the world is staring at you

Another piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit

You throw arms up are so damn sick of it

What are you working for

What are searching for

Love

You won't be thinking of cars when

You're on your death bed and dying

You'll only be thinking of

What you were paying for?

What you were praying for?

Love

You join the line of the getting richer

You keep your pace, but it's moving slow

You are defined by all that you have horded

But you're surprised it doesn't fill up the hole

Another piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit

You throw arms up are so damn sick of it

What are you coping for

What are you hoping for

Love

You won't be thinking of cars when

You're on your death bed and dying

You'll only be thinking of

What you were paying for?

What you were praying for?

Love

I'll never be what I see on the t.v screen

I'll just keep on dreaming of what I am never gonna be

I can't think of a better way two waste my time than try

Another piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit

You throw arms up are so damn sick of it

What are you hurting for?

What are you searching for?

Love, love, love, love

You won't be thinking of cars when

You're on your death bed and dying

You'll only be thinking of

What you were paying for?

What you were praying for?

Love, love, love, love

You won't be thinking of cars when

You're on your death bed and dying

You'll only be thinking of

What are you working for?

What are you waiting for?

--------------------------------------

He stared at his hollow reflection; his world slowly crumbling around him.

"Fuck." He cursed as the tears fell down his delicate porcelain cheeks. He growled,. Since when had he become so fucking breakable, porcelain, he was no better than a china doll. Just as fragile; just as useless.

Even his expensive clothes didn't feel right any more, nor the smirk he usually wore painted on his face.

"There, there," she hushed him. He gave a pitiful glance to the ghost behind him. He swallowed hard. How was it that, now, the only person he could rely on, was already dead. She is what he would become. Another victim; another body added to the count. Just another person Tom Riddle had utterly fucked over.

"Fuck." He cursed again; his voice barely above a whisper. Myrtle cooed. He glared at her through the glass, but only for a moment.

She was loving this; she was practically gloating. He let out a dry laugh, knowing that he would do the same if the shoes were switched. There was something very real about this ghost. She was bitter and twisted over her death, but she had one thing, he would never have; The element of surprise. He was dying. He knew it, even if his own body didn't just give way then Voldemort surely would. There was something about knowing your ultimate end, that just spoiled the fun of life. Funny that. Everyone was going to die some day, his just happened to be on the cards a little faster than the average sixteen year old.

He splashed cold water on his face, bringing back the smallest spark of life left inside his body. It sent a shiver down his spine, he hated it. The way the liquid burnt at his flesh, awakening his mind. He cringed.

Slowly his eyes flicker to the mirror. He never really looked at it. He would look through it, like he did with strangers, but never at it. But today, today, he was a mess.

He had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Or at least, the lives of his family. His stomach gave a bitter jerk, as he thought of his mother. The woman who shared his gray, blue eyes; who loved him, if one was ever game enough to use the word in his house.

He didn't dare think of what would be happening to her, back home. His dear Aunt and her beloved master. He hissed. Stupid cow, how could she bring down such a fate on her own sister?

He stared at the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping but soon enough that's all he would be doing. He laughed angrily, where was Harry bloody Potter now? Wasn't he meant to be the one saving the day?

Oddly enough, he knew there would be no easy road out. There was no hero, nobody to save his pathetic hide. He was a dead man walking, and now, as he studied his reflection, he looked like the part.

Along with his lack of sleep, he hadn't been eating, he had been here, crying his outs out like a girl. He took in a deep breath, he could do it. The man was old, he had lived a fairly full, and long life. He had shiny awards and honours, people would miss him sure, but his time was up.

"Fuck." He muttered again.

All he had to do was kill him. It wasn't that hard. What was he waiting for?

He choked back on the sob at the back of his throat. He couldn't back out now, he had to go through with it. Or he may as well throw himself off the astronomy tower now. He began to cry as Myrtle gloated pretending to show some kind of twisted support.

As the bathroom door open, Draco looked up in shock, who would be stupid enough to come in moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He paled visibly, trying to wipe away the offending tears before anyone saw him.

There was bloody Harry Potter, saviour of the wizard world, he snarled. Fuck him. Fuck Voldemort, he'd do it himself. Before he thought about what he was doing, the words began spilling out of his lips as he raised his wand.

Harry, was however, faster.

Draco hit the floor, the pain overcoming the hurt in his head. He could feel the blood pouring out of his chest and all he could think was, 'good'. Now it finally over ; Harry had killed him, now he didn't had to worry any more. His eyes flickered as Snape descended upon him. He smiled, knowing that word would get back to his mother, she would be broken, first her husband, then her son taken from her. He let his mind drift off.

He woke with a start. Pain clawed through his stomach, ripping at his insides. But that was nothing to what he was feeling. He was still alive.

"Fuck." He cursed. Now what?

---------------------

The pain never went away. The dull ache continued in his mind, even as the castle walls were breached. All he could felt was the evitable doom. He was outside first to reach the headmaster. They bantered as he raised his wand at Dumbledore, he paused terrified.

What was he still waiting for?

This was it, the moment.

And then it was gone………


End file.
